Counting Freckles
by damnitjane
Summary: Post Blue Bird: Jane makes a discovery of sorts as he explores Lisbon's body.
1. Chapter 1

Her fingers tapped impatiently on her right hip as she waited in the lobby of the Bluebird lodge. Abbott, after finally convincing TSA to allow Jane to go free, allowed them two extra days in Florida, the only stipulation was that they be back on Monday in Texas. Lisbon felt the warmth of his hand as he reached down to steady her moving fingers.

"Lisbon, please be calm," he told her, waiting for the receptionist to reissue their keycard.

When Lisbon abruptly left, she checked out of her room, and it was no longer available, so they decided to just use the honeymoon suite at the end of the lodge. Her nervousness was partly emotional and partly tiredness. It had been a trying night for them both.

"You're all set, Mr. Jane," the receptionist smiled at Jane, handing over the keycard. "Enjoy your stay."

"Oh, we will," he said, returning her smile. "Thanks."

Jane turned to Lisbon and placed his hand in hers. It was the first tentative thing he had done since kissing her. He hadn't wanted to push anything between them, and he knew holding hands with her would ease the nervous tick in her fingers. The smile that curled her mouth almost stopped his heart. He hadn't seen her quite this happy in a long time, even with Pike. It was like everything had been balanced when he stormed the plane and told her exactly how he felt. Part of him was reserved with fears still, but mostly he was happy to have her next to him; to be able to feel her and see her.

The ascended the stairs and walked through the long hall to the very end, where the room was waiting. Jane slid the keycard in the slot and turned the knob of the door, waiting for Lisbon to go first before going in behind her and closing the door with a soft thud. He watched as Lisbon took in the room. Their small stack of belongings were on the luggage rack, and the doors to the patio were open, allowing a light breeze to settle in the large room.

"It's different from the other rooms," he noted. "Bigger…"

"Yeah," she agreed, looking at him pecurily.

"What?"

"It's just…." she trailed off. "Three hours ago, I was engaged and on a plane headed far away from here. Seems like everything is going so fast."

"If I could slow it down for you, I would," he told her, stepping closer to her and reaching a hand for hers once more. "I know it's been fast and strange...this is new to me, too, Teresa."

"I know," she answered softly.

He pulled her gently against him, his hands wrapping around her, his chin in her hair as he inhaled the scent of her into him. There was Lorelei, who was nothing to him, but to love and care for someone in this way was new to him since his wife. These feelings in his body and in his soul were new and interesting and he felt the shadows fall from his heart, and it began to beat like it once had. He felt her arms wrap around his torso, and he hugged her even more tightly.

He disengaged one of his hands and reached down to pull up her chin so she could look at him. Her green eyes held everything in them that he felt, himself. There was desire and apprehension; joy and nervousness….there were wondrous depths in them, and he could see the same mimicked in the pupils reflection. He took a deep exhale and leaned down slowly to press his lips to hers. Gentle was how he wanted to play this. He understood that doing things too quickly, without care, could cause issues between them. And he didn't need more issues between them...they had had enough for a long time. Her mouth opened to receive him, and a throaty moan escaped as his hands slid from their place and drifted up to cup her face to his, interlocking them together like puzzle pieces. He could feel the heat from her body, and he deepened the kiss.

Clumsily, without knowing exactly where it was, Jane gently guided her body back, where it landed with a soft thud on the bed. Lying on top of her, he let go of her face and broke the kiss to lean his head back to look at her. She was looking up at him as if he was going to disappear.

"What are you doing?" she whined. "Why'd you stop?"

"Shh," he put a finger to his lips.

Jane rolled himself off her and landed on a knee at the bottom of the bed where Lisbon's feet dangled over the edge. He looked up at Lisbon for a split second before returning to her legs, where he began to untie and remove her shoes. Lisbon lifted her feet out of each boot, and she could feel him take off her socks and throw them with the boots across the room.

"Hope they weren't important to you," he chuckled as they thudded against the wall and landed on the floor.

"Nope," she replied, a smile unfurling across her tanned face.

Jane stood, climbed back on the bed, positioning himself into a sitting position with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed.. In one swift motion, he lifted Lisbon up and sat her on his lap.

"You've done this before," Lisbon said, watching his expression change. "Lorelei?"

Jane shook his head and smirked. "No," he said, reaching for her button on her jeans. "That isn't this. She was something I had to use. It was unfortunate, but there was nothing to that."

Jane's fingers quickly unbuttoned her jeans and his fingers lingered at the flesh that was revealed underneath. He cocked his head at her and mashed his lips together, waiting for her reply.

"You slept with her, though," Lisbon reminded him. "I just thought…"

"She was a one time use, Lisbon," he answered her thought trail. "What this is," he swirled his finger between them, "is actual emotional attachment."

His gaze fell to the toned flesh that was once hidden by the button of her jeans and saw a small, dark freckle next to her navel. He padded over it with his thumb pad. Lisbon leaned in close to his face and he could feel her breath on his eyelashes

"Emotional attachment?" Lisbon asked softly. "You mean like love?"

"Something like that," he smiled at her, glad she understood it was time to move away from petty memories like Lorelei. "Say, Teresa, how many of these do you think you have?" he tapped the freckled skin.

Lisbon shrugged and kissed him softly. "I don't know," she told him against his lips. "Why don't you count for yourself?"

He smiled wickedly as in one quick motion he rolled and pressed her into the mattress. The surprise in her gasp only made him more determined to count just how many of these sexy freckles he could find.

"Fine," he gave in playfully. "I love counting. I'm pretty good at it."

"Really?"

"Really. You know...the probabilities of chess moves, the perfect number of Cannolis for sharing with the person you secretly are in love with...that kind of thing."

"Well," she laughed. "This is right up your alley, then."

"Indeed," he replied, lifting her blouse up a little bit and running a hand over her belly. "Ah ha! Found another freckle," he declared, leaning down to kiss the spot on her skin.

He lifted her shirt up further until it was just above her rib cage. His fingers ran over each rib bone, the touches making Lisbon's back arch slightly off the bed.

"There is another," he told her, kissing the freckle lightly. "That's three of them, so far."

He lifted her shirt over her breasts, exposing the sports bra she was wearing. His hands slid up the length of her torso, his fingers sliding between her breasts as he lifted himself a little more so he could see the top of her collar bone. He could feel her turn to putty beneath him as his fingers grazed soft flesh. His eyes glanced over her flesh. He leaned down and kissed another freckle beside the inset of her throat.

"That's four for the top," he announced, kissing her chin and then her lips.

"There are more freckles, Jane," Lisbon told him huskily, watching as his eyes deepened.

"Really, Ms. Lisbon," he winked at her as he bent down to kiss the corner of her lips. "Well, four and counting."

"Four and counting," she repeated. "I think there are some that may interest you in places," she teased.

"Ah," he winked. "I think I like these places you speak of already."

"Good thing you like counting," she laughed as he kissed her forehead.

"Yes. A good thing indeed," he agreed, sliding down past her torso and fumbling with the zipper of her jeans. "Am I getting warm?"

"Scorching," she told him.

He watched her close her eyes as his hands found places that held more than freckles for her. He was a lucky man to be given a second chance with someone he wanted that chance with. He lost himself in finding more freckles and was not disappointed when he did.

Neither was Lisbon.


	2. Tampering With Evidence

COUNTING FRECKLES

CHAPTER 2

**TAMPERING WITH EVIDENCE**

* * *

The trip back to Texas wasn't exactly easy. Even though Abbott was successful at getting Jane out of TSA's punishments, he was asked to keep Jane off of any airlines. The no-fly list now had a Patrick Jane on it, and there was no way for Abbott to wiggle out from this stipulation. However, the FBI wasn't without a few tricks up their sleeves; Abbott booked Jane and Lisbon a seat on a private airplane back to the state.

"This trip was a tad easier," Jane teased, walking into the FBI headquarters a few hours later. "I didn't have to hijack this one."

Lisbon, who was walking just a few steps ahead, turned and smiled slightly. He returned the smile and reached out to touch her fingers gently with his own. It was a gesture that told her everything, but kept things casual and comfortable for her. Abbott was the only one who knew of their weekend in Florida. When they had touched down on the runway, Fischer had met them and was under the impression that they had to stay behind for more statements to the TSA. Jane didn't mind that; it was actually a courtesy.

"Now, you know not to do that next time," Lisbon replied, trying to hide a smile. "There won't _be_ a next time, I suspect?"

"Depends," he joked.

He glanced down at their intertwined fingers and sighed. He had counted 9 different freckles on her body, but he knew full well that wasn't a final tally because she kept arching her back underneath him and he lost his place where his lips had last touched.

"Stay still," he had told her, rubbing a hand over her belly. "You're making me lose count."

She had sighed breathily, but had made no attempt to still her body. Jane suspected it wasn't that she didn't want to, it was what he was doing made it impossible for her to do so. He had thumbed over a freckle in a sensitive area, and he had glanced up to see her eyes flutter closed and her hands raise above her head to grab a hold of the pillow resting there.

"That's the ninth freckle," he had declared, bending his head down and kissing the freckled skin, causing Lisbon to buckle, her shoulder blades the only thing touching the mattress. "I think that's my favorite freckle, so far," he had mused.

He was brought back into his present reality when Lisbon had moved ahead of him, causing his fingers to slide from hers. She sat down at her desk and he took his usual spot on the old leather-aged sofa against the wall. From here, he could see her dark brunette hair flow over her shoulders. It's the reason he had chosen this spot for the sofa; he could see her profile clearly from it. Right now, his eyes were drawing a road map from top to bottom on her, her freckles a road-side attraction for which he had to explore. His eyes bore into the cloth of her jeans intently, and only a sudden clearing of a throat was strong enough to lift him from his stupor.

"I trust you had a good time in Florida?" Abbott was asking Lisbon, a smile in his voice. "The trip back looked…uneventful."

Jane watched as his eyes fell to Jane and back once more on Lisbon.

"Florida was eventful," Jane responded. "The trip back was uneventful because you made sure of that."

"Guilty as charged," Abbott conceded. "I've always wanted to say that." He laughed at his own pun.

Abbott gave them their orders for the day, which only comprised of cataloging the evidence locker. Abbott called it punishment for their stunt in Florida (Lisbon had left an active case, after all), and set them to task, handing Lisbon the key to the evidence room.

"I _hate_ cataloging," Lisbon complained, pushing the elevator button hard in frustration. "It's so boring and takes too long. One time, I had to-"

Jane reached over and pressed the stop button on the elevator and turned to her, his hands finding her shoulders. He bent down to look her in the eyes and smiled mischievously.

"Jane, what are you doing?" Lisbon asked, her face contorting in confusion.

"I think you are failing to see the _opportunity_ that has been set forth to us, Teresa," he answered, his voice thick and husky. "And we have _this_."

He held up the key that Abbott had given to Lisbon, that he picked from her front pocket when they got on the elevator. Jane couldn't shake the disappointment that the trip had only been two days. He had only counted the front of her body's freckles, and not even all of them. He was anxious to continue his quest to see just how many on her body he could find. He knew there were more freckles to discover.

"Not at work, Jane," Lisbon insisted, catching on to his implication. "There's cameras in there!"

"No, there isn't," he argued. "When I went there with Wiley about the wool coat for the Il Tavolo case, there was only a guard behind the glass. There were no cameras anywhere. The guard won't be there until the afternoon, when they can request evidence from the locker."

Lisbon frowned and shook her head.

"You're no fun," he teased, as he shook his head and pressed the button so the elevator moved once more. "At least not spontaneous fun."

She bit her lip, but said nothing as the elevator dropped to the basement, where the locker was located. He knew she wasn't too keen on showing physical affection in the workplace, and he knew she was glad that only Abbott seemingly knew of their relationship. He didn't blame her for it, because in their private life, the heat was there and the freedom to explore however they chose was completely unseen; only they were their own witnesses. He just wished for some spontaneity. The freckle counting in Florida was evidence that anything could happen between them in the private sanctity of their bedroom. It also proved how comfortable he was with everything. But, in the end, he knew her desires and comforts were his only concern. If she didn't want this, she wouldn't get it. He would respect her wishes to keep it in the bedroom, only. He knew wildness, at least a little of it, wouldn't hurt anyone but her.

They got out of the elevator and shifted down the hall and into the evidence locker, Jane reached the glass doors and he let them in behind the secured gate and into the amass off boxes that lined the room from floor to ceiling. _Looks like fun_, Jane thought bitterly. He watched as Lisbon reached for the clipboard on the wall and sifted through the papers on them. They deserved better than this. Better than sifting through years of junk as some kind of punishment for being in love and being emotional about it! Lisbon thought this was only fair, but he didn't. All encompassing, he felt as if he couldn't show his affections for her at work, and he wanted to show her that she _could_ have some fun at work with him…

He turned and stuffed the key into the keyhole, and the door locked with a loud clang. Turning back to Lisbon, he could see her eyes narrow at him as she placed the clipboard on top of a box and watched as Jane stepped forward, closing the gap between them. He gently pushed her body backward until she felt the shelves lightly dig into her flesh. Jane's hands came on each side of her head and he tossed the key onto the clipboard before turning his gaze to Lisbon, who was staring at him accusingly.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" she asked him, bringing her hands up to press against his chest reflexively. "This isn't appropriate, Jane."

Her voice betrayed her, though. He could hear a crack of desire under the words; her body language suggested that this was exhilarating for her. This was something forbidden, and even though she felt uncomfortable with open affection like this, there was something sexy about being together in a situation where getting caught was a real possibility. It was like a rush of adrenaline through her veins, and it showed in her voice and the way her fingers curved over Jane's broad chest.

"I never did know how to follow rules well," he told her, smirking. "Being appropriate was never a strong suit of mine, as I recall."

"Understatement of the century," Lisbon answered truthfully.

He felt Lisbon's hand reach up to his golden locks and tug softly, her fingers trapping within the blond softness. Jane's hand slid from the shelf beside her and he brought it under her chin, tipping her face up to reach her jawline with his lips.

"You," he said, punctuating the word with a soft kiss to her jawline, "need a lesson in rule-breaking."

She laughed. "Teach me your ways."

He smiled at her widely before his lips found the lobe of her ear. Kissing it lightly, he saw that there was a freckle behind her ear. His thumb came up to flick her earlobe and travel over the freckled skin behind it. He heard her breath hitch as his warm lips danced over the imperfection; it was the tenth freckle, and this one was shaped like a heart.

"Tenth," he breathed in her ear. He could feel a shiver go down her spine, and she curled into him.

"You missed that one," she teased. She released his hair and reached to caress the back of his neck with her palm. "Don't worry, I am sure you'll find more."

His hands fell to her blouse and its tan-colored buttons. Slowly, as if he wanted to feel the material under his fingers forever, he slowly unbutton her shirt and reached down to untuck it from her waist. He felt her breathing quicken; he watched her gaze slide to the still locked door and back to him. She was nervous, but desire for what happened in Florida flooded her even more. He had her like putty in his hands, and she molded to him like plastic in a fire.

"Ah," he exclaimed, pushing her shirt off her shoulders and letting it fall around her elbows. "Straps this time. This makes things easier."

Lisbon smiled sheepishly.

"It's almost as if you _knew_ this would happen," he laughed, putting his index and middle finger under the strap and feeling the length of it and her warm skin on his knuckles.

"If I knew this would happen," she answered with the smile still firmly planted on her face, "I wouldn't have worn any."

"That's not without merit," he giggled, bringing his lips down to kiss the soft flesh at her shoulders. "Did you know that you have a cluster of freckles here?"

Before she could answer, Jane pushed aside the strap and brought his other hand up to feel the skin dotted with the freckles. His fingertips danced across them, sending a small shockwave through Lisbon. She could hear him softly count each one as his finger touched them, his fingers making there way back to the top of her shoulder-blade. He kissed the side of her neck and he felt her shift under him; it must have tickled.

"That's four there," he informed her, kissing the front of her throat until he was on the other side of her, his fingers sliding along with him.

He lifted the other strap and eyed the flesh under it, finding darker freckles there, as well. He counted them as he kissed them, and then turned to gaze at her. She had closed her eyes, and her hand shad unconsciously slid from his neck and now rested once more on his chest, her hands knotting his shirt with her fists. He took two steps backwards, and was immediately met with a murmur of Lisbon realizing the warmth was gone.

"Shh," he told her, softly grabbing her wrists from the hands knotting his shirt and turning her gently so that her stomach pressed softly into the shelves. "I want to look at the back of you."

He felt her shiver as his fingers traced the length of her spine and back up to the base of her neck. He took a hold of the hooks of her bra and, with gentle what could only be described as wizardry, unhooked it with two fingers, letting the material fall to her sides and hang there, listless.

"You've had practice, then?" she questioned, amusement lacing her words. "You unhooked that better than I do."

He laughed and traced the red lines where the strap had dug into her milky flesh.

"Well, when I really want to do something," he mused, "it becomes second nature to me."

His hands slid across her shoulder blades and across her back, bending slightly. She shivered again when his fingertips brushed against the side of her breast, where he found an eleventh freckle.

"I know I already said I had a favorite," he said softly against her skin as his lips danced over the spot. "But, I have to confess, I am fond of this one. I like the view."

Lisbon let out a breathy laugh. "Mmhm."

He traveled down her spine and past the sides of her, and found no other freckles. He wasn't disappointed. No. Actually, he was pleased with his finds. He loved how endearing the freckle behind her ear looked like a heart, and he loved the spot in which he found the other. They made her unique; made her his. He was sure that he was the only one who cared enough about her to explore her body and find the things that made her his. He loved hearing her moans and her sighs when he raked his lips over the areas, and he loved the shivers in her body that racked their way to him. His hands lingered at the waist of her jeans, his fingers sliding in between the dense material and her soft skin. His fingers just rounded their way to the front when there was a banging on the doors. Lisbon jumped, righted her blouse, and done up her buttons as Jane cursed.

"We'll continue this later," he whispered in her ear.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Jane knew who it was. It was the guard opening the doors for the afternoon evidence duty. He cursed the guard under his breath for interrupting his working road map, but there was anticipation that they would finish later, and he would find all the spots on her that made her who she was. He had every intention of seeking out every single place they could hide, and he had a feeling she would enjoy that very much.


	3. Cameras Down

There was silence finally. Everything had come to a soundless stop. No more computer keys clicking, no more voices trying to beat each other out, and no more daylight. The FBI was nearly vacant at this late hour, just a single solitary beam of light from the moon over his leather couch encroached in the bull pen.

"Everyone is gone," Jane declared softly, sitting up on his couch and looking around the vacant office. "Not a peep."

Lisbon, who was sitting doing paper work at her desk, looked up from the numbing reports and scanned the room before leaning back to look at Jane's mischievous gaze.

"Did this afternoon not teach you anything, Jane?" she asked him, breaking eye contact and going back to her reports. "I'm pretty sure there are cameras in here, too."

As if that bothered her, she looked in the corners of the room before once again picking up her pen and continuing to fill them out. Jane, however, could see the slight wave of excitement crawling off her; the way her head tilted slightly as if intrigued by the idea. She had to admit that this afternoon's near incident excited her and made her want it more than she thought she did.

"Nonsense," Jane told her, standing and stretching his legs. "There are no cameras."

"I've seen them, Jane," Lisbon argued, closing the open file on her desk and turning her chair to face him. "They pointed them out when they gave me a tour my first day here."

"You are misunderstanding me," he told her, leaning forward to pull her, in her chair, closer to his couch. He sat down and put a hand on her knee. "I had Wylie shut them down for the evening."

"You had Wylie disable the damn cameras?!" she exclaimed loudly. "Are you insane? It's the FBI, Jane. I can't cover for you here."

Jane shook his head as he traced circles on her upper leg, above the knee. Just like Lisbon. It wasn't exactly romantic, he would give her that, but they had worked almost the entire day apart. He hadn't seen her after the evidence locker, because Abbott had made him go on a case with Cho, while Lisbon did reports. He didn't need it to be super romantic, because all he wanted was time with her. He had promised to finish what they started in the locker, and he was going to do it. Asking Wylie to disable the cameras had been a necessity. Wylie, who didn't ask questions but Jane suspected he knew why, didn't hesitate to accommodate Jane. Wylie had set the cameras to go off at 9pm, and to come back live at 6am. This gave the right amount of time in between.

"Don't worry, Teresa," he assured her. "It's only for a little while."

Lisbon wanted to answer, but his slow, lazy circles making their way to her outer thigh was distracting her. He smiled at the frown on her face, bringing his hand that was caressing her thigh down to remove her shoes, tossing them aside. Gliding his hand back up her leg, he rested it at the back of her knee. His other hand came up to touch her frown, his fingers gliding across the soft skin of her lips.

"Don't be angry with me," he pleaded. "We've not seen each other almost all day. Not since this morning. Give us this."

"I'm not angry," she corrected him. "I'm just..."

She trailed off as his deep blue eyes bore into her hot green ones. There was desire reflected through them both ways; one flashed with need and the other with hunger. Truth was, she wasn't angry, exactly. She didn't do this with Pike. The spontaneity of it all was new to her, and so was this kind of Jane. At the Blue Bird, he had been tentative and shy and new at this. This Jane, the one smiling mischievously at her now, was different. And it scared her how much she liked it.

"Good," he answered. "Come here, Teresa."

The hand that was behind her knee came up to tap his legs, motioning for her to sit on his lap. His hand that had been at her lips were now firmly placed in her own, holding steady so she could leverage herself onto the warmth of his lap. She stood, and Jane kicked the chair with his foot across the open space, where it hit her desk corner and stopped. Lisbon stepped forward, and then, slowly, she lowered herself onto his lap, her feet dangling off his right knee. He felt her hand come up to touch his jaw line, and the other hand palmed his chest.

As the old saying goes, resistance was futile. She couldn't help herself and had to feel the warmth of him on her. His touches and caresses still made her shiver and when he took a commanding tone, she was like putty in the sun; melted and a puddle of emotional substance. _Sometimes_, she thought_, I hate playing the boss_.

"I've counted nearly every freckle on you, but I still have territory to inspect," he told her, his eyes smoldering. "I believe," he punctuated that by reaching his hands down between them to the button on her skin-tight jeans, "we stopped somewhere around here." His fingers popped the button easily, and Lisbon could hear her zipper slowly descend down. He didn't take his gaze away from hers.

Instead, craning his neck, he reached his lips to kiss her on the tip of her nose. It was a little gesture that he knew would give a spark of pleasure; she loved the little touches, as he was aware. He heard her breathing hitch as his fingertips ran along the top of her lace panties poking out from the blue denim, rubbing the elastic band with his thumb. He enjoyed hearing her breath quicken and then slow in succession. It made him aware that he was pressing the right buttons.

"Yeah," Lisbon answered softly. "Yeah, about there."

In one swift motion, Jane pushed her gently back so she fell on her back on the sofa. He turned his body and was above her own, a small gap between them. Lisbon reached up to kiss him. Feeling the heat of her mouth on his, Jane's hand slid back between them to the open fly of her jeans. Without breaking the kiss, his hand contoured between the denim and lace, wrapping around her waist and pressing her to him at the small of her back.

"Lift your hips," he mumbled against her lips.

"Hmm," she muttered in reply.

Lisbon lifted her butt from the couch (pressing deeper into Jane as she did so), and she could feel Jane break away from the kiss and lean up and slightly to the side so that he could slide the denim from her fleshed hips. She watched as he rolled the tight jeans down her legs and off of her, throwing them to the floor. Just her socks remained on, and the lace Jane seemed fascinated with.

"You already got those freckles," she frowned, causing Jane to laugh. "What?"

"I know," he told her, trying to contain his laugh at her confused face.

His hands glided back up along her calves, past the back of the knees and rested on her bare hips. He glanced at the flesh along that track and was sure he had seen all there was to discover here. He leaned down to her ear level and whispered softly, "Turn around, please."

She didn't reply. Instead, burning with excitement and anticipation, she rolled herself gently onto her stomach, her hands coming up under her head, almost in a sleeping pose, as she turned her head toward the empty room.

"I don't know what" she started to say. She was interrupted by feel of his hands on the small of her back, and they were traveling southward.

"Well," he replied, amusement in his voice, "there is only one area that I haven't been able to inspect. And, if I remember right, this is actually what I was going for this afternoon."

He felt her wiggle a bit as his hands pulled at the elastic of her lace, shimmying the material downward. His hands glided over her butt, pulling the material down and letting them hang at the back of her knees. She gasped a little at the cold of his fingertips compared to her scorching skin. His thumb smoothing over her bareness; his fingers squeezing her slightly.

"I can tell you with certainty that this is the first time this has happened to me," Lisbon said, chuckling. She didn't hate it. No. Certainly not. It was a first for her, and the sensation of being touched that way by him was a high.

"Staking my claim," he laughed. "Here's another."

He bent down and pressed his lips to the right cheek where there was one lone freckle. He could feel her wiggle, a sensation he knew was because it tickled her.

"Only one here," he told her, squeezing her cheeks slightly. "How anti-climactic."

"Well," she said, turning back onher back and gazing up at him. "There are ways to make it to the climax."

He smiled at her and reached for her buttons on her shirt as she reached for his pants button. The leather couch might have been a bad idea because it squeaked even at the slightest movement, but he supposed they were alone and only they would hear it. After all, he wouldn't say that the sounds were annoying. Quite the opposite; they let him know exactly how in tune with her he was.

Throwing clothing haphazardly on the floor, they made love (squeaks and all) on the leather couch. Each time he thrusted into her, he found one of his favorite freckles on her and pressed it with his fingers, causing her back to arch wildly, as if those were pressure-no, _pleasure _points. When both were spent, he'd do it all again. He'd do it for as long as she wanted and as long as those freckles remained his to rediscover.

If it is one thing Jane had done in this new life, it was taking care of Lisbon. And being adventurous and spontaneous was something he suspected she would be good at now.

"What are you thinking?" she whispered to him as she lay in his arms on that old rickety couch.

"I am thinking it's _your_ turn to find freckles on _me_," he winked, hugging her tight against his chest. "I think you'd find some favorite spots of your own."

* * *

_**A/N: I know, I know...butt rubbing/squeezing?! This is the final chapter of Counting Freckles (at least Lisbon's Freckles edition). Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoyed it**_. _**Reviews are welcome. I do read all your reviews and take them to heart.**_


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